Redemption Song

I’ve had few line in the sand moments in my life (so far), those that others call a-ha times. Counting maybe eight or so. One was while 24,000 feet in the air gazing at an in flight magazine. Maybe early 1990s. Maybe late 1980s. I don’t remember. But it was me in typical RS questionable low self-esteem fashion, always in a state of questioning my lot in life, contrasting what I thought I should know by now (then) and what I assumed others thought I knew (by then) with what I knew I really knew (then). I expected to be a lot further along despite that so much came so easily and the market accepted what I did and placed it in a decent, comfortable layer that I wondered if I deserved. I’m reading this ‘zine, remember the ‘zine? I’m a bad reader in the best situation and a really bad reader if my hand is on the bible. I’m a scanner. I find words. Sentences find me. If I’m lucky I mean really lucky a page, or maybe an entire article will find me. The story was about an artist and, whenever I remember this flight the artist becomes Louise Bourgeois, the sculptor. Buried in her story was a quote that went something like this: “I continue with my work to redeem myself for all my past mistakes.” The further I get from that airplane ride, the less accurately I recall the story or even if Ms. Bourgeois was the person being highlighted. I think these were the words and they were hers.

That quote, that sentiment, it became a hook I’ve hung my hat on for decades now. The moment came when I needed it most, as the ones that matter that really matter seem to do.